The Yoyo Complex
by Laliel
Summary: Daniel attempts to tell Jack that the memory stamps might not hurt him and Sam, but Jack is intent on his yoyo. Set during Divide and Conquer. NOT SLASH.


Disclaimer: I do not own any character of Stargate SG-1 or Stargate Atlantis. Those who do own it are much higher up than I.

(In case you don't know, this is set during: Episode: Divide and Conquer, Season 4)

Dr. Daniel Jackson's Journal

The Yo-yo Complex:

Just something that happened between Jack and I that I had to record. One of those funnier moments(I hope.) And I hope that one day I can read this to Sha're, to make her laugh the way she used to. I hope that if someone else reads this, they won't believe that Jack isn't intelligent He really does think, has his own worries and opinions, and above all, is the best buddy a zany doctor could ask for.

I'm not sure which conversation I've shared with Jack might be considered the most interesting. I'm fairly certain that this one might be thought of as the most crazy, disjointed one we have shared in many months. At least it's better then the times that Jack and I have gotten into arguments, as in neither one wants to back down. I had just summed up what Anise had only a half an hour ago explained to me: the procedure to remove the imprinting might not damage Jack and Sam's brains. In all, it they had a 50/50 chance of it working.

Jack had taken the news lying down, quite literally. He was sprawled out on the cot in his own "private" little room that the SGC had lent him, mostly so he wouldn't be a danger to anyone else in case he "self-destructed". Somehow, his fiddling with that blue yo-yo seemed right, like all those times he had started to poke and prod things in my office. Or Sam's office. Or even off-world artifacts that hadn't been labeled.

"Come again?" His head lifted up, his eyes meeting mine in a look of incredulous disbelief.

"Bottom line is, there's a chance you could come out completely intact." I dropped my face down and shoved my own restless fingers into my slack's pockets. I felt my wallet, my keys, some loose change, two weeks' worth of pocket lint, and a small memo from General Hammond that was outdated. And that was only in my left pocket.

"Or not." Jack slowly brought himself to a sitting position, his fingers clasping his yo-yo like Frodo had clasped the one ring. Maybe I was drawing too much of a line there. I dropped that thought quickly.

"Or not . . . " I echoed him, my mouth growing into a firm line to match the ones that appeared on my forehead.

Jack paused, his mind wandering who knows how far away. I could tell that he was thinking, though, something people didn't assume he did too much of that activity.

"What's Carter say?"

My eyes started to follow the little irregularities in the concrete floor. That one looks just like Turkey, I couldn't help but notice. I brought my mind back from that odd thought to give him a half smile, half grimace.

"Uh, I don't know, Martouf is explaining it to her now."

Then came those words, ones I never thought to hear from Jack that didn't have that grating tone attached to them: "What would you do?"

I looked up from my examination of Turkey/concrete to find a startling revelation. Jack's eyes, those twinkly, sarcastic eyes held a dullness that cut straight to my heart. Those were the eyes of a man who had lost hope, the same eyes that I had seen staring at me from a mirror for months on end after Sha're was taken from me. A chill crept into my body, and I was suddenly glad of my warm woven sweater. I finally broke eye-contact with him, though, and gave him my usual mumbled answer.

"I honestly don't know." My eyes scanned the room, before coming back to rest on my friend. Jack heaved a sigh, and I shifted. My temperature was slowly coming back to lukewarm, even as his eyes turned bright again. I shifted my arms, but inside I was really pulling my mind back together again.

"She made a pass at me." I suddenly wondered how we could get from seriousness to this. I started shifting through all the females I knew who worked with Jack. Frasier? Not even. Some airman. Never. That left . . .

"Sam?"

He gave me that "are you crazy!" stare.

'Anise . . . Freaa . . . one of them."

I didn't even want to know how that had come about.

"Really?"

A nice simple answer to a very peculiar announcement.

"The host half."

I said the next thing that popped into my mind.

"Uh, that's odd."

Jack tilted his head in agreement.

"You're telling me. Odd timing too, don't you think"

My mind felt like it had blown a fuse, this conversation was starting to get weird. Very weird. Out-of-this-galaxy type weird.

"Yes."

He glanced up at me before continuing.

"Apparently the snake likes you."

Jack starting to play with his yo-yo, while my mind began to grasp the meaning of "Apparently the snake likes you." This was starting to warp my thinking.

"Really?"

Not that I really cared. I truthfully didn't like Anise/Freaa, and it went with out saying that Jack didn't like her much, either. I watched Jack's face turn blank as he proceeded to try what appeared to be The Cat's Cradle with his yo-yo string. Only it didn't work, and he was left with a dangling round of wood. He started to pick up lengths of the string with his fingers, with a look of such intent it made me give this comment.

"Yup, these are the "Jack O'Niell" moments I would probably miss the most."

The words didn't appear to register for at least 30 seconds before his glanced up.

"What?"

My face started to go blank as well. Jack's actions prompted me to mirror him. I gave him one of my innocent looks.

"What."

All things said and done, I hope that Jack would live to see another year, and another, and another. He is my friend, and although we argue, I would never want to see him die. That is my truth and my hope, and Whoever is out there listening and watching, please watch over my good buddy, Colonel Jack O'Neill.


End file.
